The Number Four
by BeMySpiderman
Summary: When it came to Lilly, it was always the number four. Loliver, in honor of Loliver Day, 2008. ONESHOT.


_This_ was _not_ supposed to happen. Oliver couldn't believe _this had happened_. It was like, straight out of a freaking horror movie.

And now she was alone, and every minute she was gone, she was lonely and sad and depressed. All because he had to go and be romantic.

He should have just stuck to flowers and an "I can't live without you."

What _had_ he been thinking?

He obviously hadn't.

He never thought he'd be alone on their anniversary. Especially not their fourth, this was a big year: it was Lilly's favorite number under ten; and he definitely wasn't waiting eight more years to do this.

Heck, he couldn't wait eight more minutes.

But he was going to have too.

He couldn't believe his damn bad luck. When has God ever been so cruel to man before?

Sure, He drowned the whole planet once, but this was more important. Oliver was supposed to have His support. But instead, he felt like he was drowning. And he hadn't been smart enough to build a boat.

He waited anxiously, flipping his phone open and closed to the rhythm of his thumping heart.

He was silent, and he could almost hear the beat echoing off of the trees surrounding him.

He listened carefully, staring down at his cell phone.

_Ring. _He willed it. _Ring._

And to his surprise, it did. He opened the phone, pushing the cool plastic to his mouth. "Lilly? Is your car alright? Are _you_ alright?

"Slow down, Einstein. It's me. The car's a pile of crap, but Jake and I sent Lilly on the bus. She should be there in ten minutes. Maybe fifteen," Miley spoke with speed. "Hey, I've got to get going, before Susan and Helen wake up and find out their aunt skipped town. See you, Ollie."

And the dial tone filled his ears before he could manage one word.

"God damn it," He hissed under his breath, kicking the bench.

_One. Two. _He counted. _Three. Four. _His foot throbbed… _Eight. Nine. Ten. Elev-_

"Aw, what did that poor bench do?" Oliver froze. Lilly's voice like a song beckoning him. He turned around, just to find an empty street. He let out an exasperated cry, tugging on his hair, mimicking a smoker deprived of nicotine:

But what could he do? She was intoxicating.

Every blink of her eyes rendered him breathless, and every fiery word that sprung from her tongue left him ready to break down. Every taste of her lips made him yearn for more, for just one more…

Every time she crossed her arms, scoffed and yelled like there was no tomorrow. Mostly at him. He just wanted to kiss her, no matter how angry he was.

Every tear that fell from her eyes was just another embrace his arms ached for. An army of comforting kisses and consoling words beat against his lips.

And every time she was missing, he found himself struggling to fill up a space too titanic to ever replace.

But, his mind created a Lilly of it's own. It labored to think of the witty remarks each and every one of his actions would receive. Her expressions and reactions.

Sometimes so close to reality he thought they were real. Sometimes too close to reality, that once he had realized she wasn't there he was left to curl up into the famous fetal position.

Needless to say, he needed her. And every minute she was away he wasn't even half there.

People claim to have another half, but without Lilly, Oliver didn't even exist.

Not in his own mind, anyway.

_Every time. _

His watch had long sounded alarm, as well as his phone. It was four hours passed their exact anniversary. Lilly and Oliver should have been celebrating, but they weren't.

She was riding a dangerous public bus, and he was about ready to claw his eyes out, if it meant he'd no longer have to endure this.

"Hey Ollie-Boy," His mind teased again, and he rested his head in his hands, after sitting down on the bench.

"Ollie?" Why didn't it just stop? He squeezed his eyes tightly, shaking his head, as if this was all a dream.

"Oliver!" She shouted, infuriated, and tugging at him as the rain began to fall.

He looked up. Just in time to see his angel. Raindrops twinkling on her eyelashes and pink sweeping her cheeks as he swore he saw her glow.

"Hi," He whispered, standing up. Hi?

He watched as her eyes took in her surroundings, and she bit her lower lip.

"What, what is all this?" Lilly questioned, eyebrows furrowed, gesturing to an assembly of Lily flowers and pink rose petals.

"It's a happy anniversary. That's what it is." Oliver grinned, and Lilly smiled in response:

"A very happy one," She agreed, leaning in for a soft peck of the lips. She pulled away: "Come on, let's get going. It's starting to rain."

"But you love the rain, and you love Lily flowers." Oliver whispered into her ear, catching her around the waist: "And pink has always been your favorite color, even when you wouldn't dare to admit it."

"And four has always been your favorite number. Four wheels, four pets, four flowers, four books, four magazines, four kisses, four kids, four years." He continued; naming every item that always seemed to come in fours, especially when it came to Lilly.

"Oliver, what is this?" Lilly tried to wriggle out of his arms: "I've made dinner, and I left the broiler on, we've got to get home."

"Four sandcastles," He gestured slowly to where the carefully constructed mansions of sand lay, waiting for Lilly's approving eyes. Lilly glanced from her boyfriend to the sandcastles. Before slowly approaching them.

She remembered this place, four years, four hours, four minutes ago when they had shared their first kiss. Four sandcastles later, four barking dogs, four skateboard wheels changed, four teasing with buttercup flowers, four trashy books, four Hannah Montana magazines, four interrupting kids had all taken place that afternoon before they finally shared their kiss. Their kisses, to be more specific. Their four kisses.

She counted the flags; she counted the towers, four of everything. _Perfect. _She removed a glass green bottle from the top of the highest tower.

"Just one of these?" She teased, a smile playing on her lips.

The rain continued to fall, at random intervals of time.

She playfully pulled the cork out of the old wine bottle, before struggling to remove a white piece of paper.

Oliver watched carefully, waiting to see what she would do next. She grinned up at him, before slowly unfolding the note and finally reading it.

He pursed his lips, inspecting her every movement. Waiting for some kind of sign of what she was going to do next.

She reread the note at least five times, maybe four. Before refolding it, and placing the note and cork back into the bottle. Finally her blue eyes met his.

"Yes," She whispered, her voice barely audible. She nodded her head up and down.

"What was that?" Oliver teased.

"Yes." She exclaimed. "Yes!" She shouted before pulling Oliver into a warm embrace, only to have their lips meet in a passionate kiss.

The wine bottle dropped from Lilly's hand and slowly rolled down the hill, farther and farther towards the shore, until the bottle rolled right into the surf. Forgotten for a moment, as it rode the waves.

It sailed the Pacific Ocean, and soon was out of sight. But the little green bottle was never forgotten, the one containing the note on white paper:

_Marry me, Lilly, or I swear I'll die._

_Marry me, Lilly, or I swear I'll die._

_Marry me, Lilly, or I swear I'll die._

_Marry me, Lilly, or I swear I'll die._


End file.
